Jason Phoenix and the Demon Lamp

By Kyle Willis

Jason Phoenix is like any normal teenager worrying about grades, pimples, and what he wants to do with the rest of his life ... until his world gets turned upside down with the discovery of a mysterious lamp. The seductive, female demon who emerges from the lamp in a spire of black smoke manipulates Jason into 

exchanging his soul for

• Language: English
• Publisher: PathBinder Publishing LLC
• Release date: Mar 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781955088503

Kyle Willis

Kyle Willis studied communications, business, and creative writing at Hanover College, where he had several poems and short stories published in Kennings Literacy Journal. When he wasn't competing for the Hanover College track and field team, studying, or working, he was busy writing stories. While Kyle is a supply chain associate at Fastenal Company, his true passion is storytelling.

Book preview

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JASON PHOENIX

and the demon lamp

KYLE WILLIS

COLUMBUS,

INDIANA

Published by PathBinder Publishing LLC

P.O. Box 2611

Columbus, IN 47202

www.PathBinderPublishing.com

Copyright © 2023 by Kyle Willis

All rights reserved

Edited by Lori Haggard

Covers designed by Kassondra Hattabaugh

Cover photo by iStock

First published in 2023

Manufactured in the United States

ISBN: 978-1-955088-50-3

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023902455

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This story and its characters are fictional; any resemblance to actual events or individuals is purely coincidental.

To the girl who broke my heart. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been inspired to write this story or found my passion for storytelling.

Acknowledgments

Like Jason; without help and guidance, I wouldn’t have gotten very far with this book. There are so many individuals I want to thank for their invaluable help, starting with the man who was there with me every step of the way, Professor Saul Lemerond. From asking Saul numerous questions in my intro creative writing class to emailing him while he was on his honeymoon at Lake Superior; Saul was an incredible mentor and friend to me. I’m truly indebted to you.

To my brother, mom, grandpa, Nate Real, and Saben Fletcher, thank you all for being my guinea pigs and taking the time to read my story. Your feedback helped me improve things that could be improved and assured me that I wasn’t writing garbage.

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my peers in my creative writing courses at Hanover College. Your constructive feedback during class is what helped make my story so special. A shoutout to Gracie Phillips for all her fantastic ideas, some of which I included in this book.

Finally, I want to thank Paul J. Hoffman and his staff at PathBinder Publishing LLC for helping me publish Jason Phoenix and the Demon Lamp. I remember sending my first email to Paul and pitching my book to him. After being denied by countless publishers, I didn’t have high hopes, but Paul pleasantly surprised me. He and his editor, Lori Haggard, helped turn my dream into a reality.

To everyone I’ve mentioned, thanks to you; now everyone gets to enjoy Jason Phoenix’s story, too.

Table of Contents

I Words of Wisdom

II Demon Deal

III Man of My Word

IV Surprise, Surprise, Surprise

V Who Spilled the Drinks?

VI Questions, Questions, Questions

VII The Date

VIII Everything Goes Up in Flames

IX A Promise to Keep

About the Author

Chapter I

Words of Wisdom

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining while a gentle breeze blew, making Jason’s hair dance in the wind. He was lying in a meadow looking up at the blue sky, gazing at the white, puffy clouds. One looked like a fish, while another looked like a rabbit. The meadow itself was beautiful. Flowers had bloomed, coloring the meadow yellow, purple, and white. In the background, a radio played softly. A perfect day, he thought to himself.

A hand touched the side of his face. The hand gently pulled his attention away from the sky. The hand belonged to a beautiful girl. Her brilliant shamrock-green eyes stared back into his. Her skin was flawless and her face a perfect oval.

She pulled herself up on top of Jason. Her chocolate-brown hair flowed down the side of her face like a waterfall. He could only see her smooth, perfect face. Probably why she got on top, he thought to himself.

Jason reached up and brushed her hair behind her ear and let his hand rest on her cheek while his other found a home on her lower back. Simultaneously, both leaned in, and their lips met. For a few moments, he felt like the two were one, connected by their lips. Kissing her made him feel complete, like nothing else in the world mattered because it was just him and her.

The girl pulled away and flashed a breathtaking, white smile. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead of words, an alarm rang out. Everything around Jason faded into darkness.

Jason Phoenix had been woken up by his alarm clock, the source of the noise in his dream. He reached over and silenced the alarm. The clock said it was 5:30 a.m. He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, letting his eyes adjust to being awake. Fighting the urge to close his eyes and drift back to sleep was difficult. Feeling semi-awake, he got up and sat on the side of his bed.

Damn you, Jason cursed the clock, I was having a very good dream.

Jason’s alarm clock didn’t apologize. Instead, it continued to sit on the nightstand. The clock now said it was 5:33 a.m. He had wasted enough time. Hopping out of bed, he made his way to the bathroom. The flash from the bathroom light turning on nearly blinded him. Squinting to shield his eyes from the bright light, he awkwardly made his way toward the shower. He turned the shower on, and water came roaring out of the shower head.

He got undressed and jumped in. The shower felt amazing! The steam and warm water running down his body were what he needed to wake up. Now clean and fully awake, he journeyed back to his room to get dressed.

Jason was in such a rush to get ready he threw on the first T-shirt, shorts, socks, and tennis shoes he could find. He packed a change of clothes in a gym bag and grabbed his backpack on the way out of his room. He walked to a room at the end of the hall, opened the door, and peeked his head in. Daniel, his younger brother, was still fast asleep, his body rising and falling rhythmically.

Danny, Jason whispered. There was no response from his brother. Danny! Jason repeated with more force the second time.

What? Daniel responded half-consciously.

It’s time to go. Are you coming or not? Jason asked.

What time is it?

Five fifty-one.

No, I’m good, Daniel said as he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Suit yourself.

On his way out, Jason made sure he had everything he needed, checking things off as he went. Backpack, check. Gym bag, check. Car keys, check. Granola bars, check. Bottle of water, check.

He closed the door on his way out and walked down the driveway of his house. One of the perks of getting up early was enjoying the peacefulness of the morning. The birds sang their good-morning tune as the sun began to show its orange face. And the air…he inhaled deeply, taking in the refreshing scent of the morning dew.

Jason got in his car and checked the clock on the dashboard. It read 5:54 a.m. Now anxious, he started the car, and the engine roared to life. He backed out of the driveway and began driving.

The sun was still rising as Jason drove to school. While driving through town, he saw that many buildings had their lights and open signs on. How could anyone be up right now? he wondered, despite that he, himself, was up at the moment. As the buildings went by one by one, he noticed some of the windows of the buildings were broken and had been boarded up. This didn’t shock him. Vandalism was common in Munsen, Illinois.

Thankfully the drive was short. The clock read 5:59 a.m. as he pulled into the parking lot of Munsen High School. Now really in a rush, he flung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbed his gym bag, and ran for the front doors. Once inside the building, he jogged down the dark hallways, making turns here and there until reaching the gymnasium. The lights were on, and he could hear a ball bouncing against the hardwood floor, sneakers squeaking, and the swish of the net.

You’re late, an irritated voice called out. The voice belonged to an older, bald black man. The man was Tony Delorea.

I know. I’m sorry, coach, Jason apologized.

"No, you are late. You will be sorry."

Yes, sir, Jason said.

Do you think Jordan was ever late? Was Magic ever late? Guys like them were always on time for practice.

Allen Iverson skipped practice once in a while. Jason knew he was going to pay for that retort.

So now you’re also a wise guy? Tony wasn’t amused by Jason’s comment.

Just trying to be funny.

Hmm, Tony grunted, wearing an annoyed expression. "Well, if you think it’s okay to be a few minutes late, go ahead. I’m not the one under scholarship."

Jason hated to admit it, but his coach was right. Tony wasn’t the one who had committed to Jacobsen College to play basketball. But Tony acted like he was. There were days when Tony would do Jason’s workouts with him, go on runs with him, and eat the same food as him. It was nice to have someone else to trudge through the mud with. It made life a little easier. There were some days Jason didn’t want to get up early or eat the meals.

Coach Wilkerman, the men’s head basketball coach at Jacobsen College, would routinely check in on Jason once a month, making sure he was staying in shape and getting ready for college ball. He was thankful he had Tony to help keep him honest and dedicated to his training even though, sometimes, Tony made him want to pull his hair out.

Jason sighed. No, you’re right, it’s not okay, Jason said. Won’t happen again.

Now, that’s what I like to hear! C’mon and get on the line.

Tony motioned him toward the baseline of the court. Jason put all his stuff down at the end of the court and started stretching.

You get twenty-five seconds with the sprints today, Tony said.

What?! Jason was in disbelief. Yesterday I had thirty seconds!

"That’s right, yesterday was thirty seconds. Today is twenty-five seconds because you were late and a wise guy, Tony said. You ready?"

He loved Tony, but the guy could really get on his nerves. At times, Tony would make him stay later and watch more game film, and if he messed up, Tony would give him a harder time than his teammates. It was the small things that grinded his gears. But he knew Tony only did everything he did to help Jason be better.

Yeah, let’s do it. Jason took his spot on the baseline.

Ready, Go! Tony yelled.

Jason took off as hard as could for the opposite end of the court. He reached the end, planted his foot, pivoted, pushed off, and sprinted back. Now back where he started, he planted, pivoted, pushed, and sprinted to the opposite side of the court again. He focused on his breathing, moving his arms, and driving his legs against the ground, making him go faster. He had gone down and back the length of the court twice and was on his last sprint.

Four seconds! Push it! Push it, Jason! Push it! Tony yelled.

Giving everything he had left, Jason sprinted as fast as he could, driving his legs into the court and throwing his arms forward and backward, helping him gain speed. He was almost to the end of the court. The end was twenty feet away, ten feet, five feet, a foot…

Time! Tony called out as Jason crossed the end of the court.

Jason’s lungs felt like they were on fire. He put his hands behind his head, taking slow deep breaths. His legs felt heavy, and he could feel the sweat dripping from his brow down his face. That first sprint was tough, but he was proud. He had never run it that fast before.

Not bad, Tony commented. A couple more times ought to do.

After a few minutes passed, Jason had gotten his breathing under control, and his legs didn’t feel like they wanted to fall off.

You ready? Tony asked.

Let’s do it, Jason said as he got back on the baseline, fixing his eyes down the court.

Go!

After doing four rounds of sprints, Tony had Jason do two hundred push-ups, three hundred sit-ups, and a hundred burpees. After finishing his conditioning, he was drenched with sweat and exhausted. But the fun didn’t stop. Over the next hour, he did drills to improve his shooting, ball handling, and finishing around the room with his right and left hands. To wrap up the practice, he had to make ten free throws in a row. The task sounded easy, but it almost drove him insane. Every time he would be down to one or two free throws left to make, he would miss and have to start over. Each miss frustrated him more and more. After starting over three times, he managed to make ten free throws consecutively.

Finally! Jason rejoiced, relieved to be done with the drill.

"Damn right, finally! Tony said. I could have gone to get donuts, waited for them to be made, and came back!"

Well, you probably would have ate them on the ride back, Jason said while smiling.

So what?

Eating and driving is just as bad as texting and driving, Jason responded.

Is that right?

That’s a fact.

Tony chuckled. Alright, good stuff today, but what’s our motto?

Don’t work harder than the guy next to you, work harder than you did yesterday, Jason recited.

He had heard Tony say this to him and his teammates countless times. He heard it so often, he sometimes heard it in his dreams. It was Tony’s favorite along with let’s get the bread! which he recently started saying to stay hip.

Speaking of working hard, where is Daniel? Tony asked.

Sleeping, Jason answered.

Tony sighed and let his head drop. Jason felt the same way every time Daniel would miss a practice or workout.

He could be all-state if he had your work ethic. The kid is wasting so much talent.

I know. Jason shrugged his shoulders.

It was true, Daniel was naturally athletic and good at basketball. When they were little kids and would play in their driveway, Daniel would always win. Once they got into high school, things changed. Jason would stay after for practices and workouts, but Daniel didn’t. Jason would play on travel teams and in tournaments, but his brother didn’t. As Jason started taking the game more seriously, his brother just didn’t. Daniel only wanted to have fun with the game and not try. He supposed he shouldn’t mind as long as Daniel was happy, but Jason didn’t agree with his brother’s choice.

Are you coming in after school? Tony’s question snapped Jason back to reality.

No, I have work, Jason answered.

Ring!

The school bell sounded which meant it was eight o’clock and he had fifteen minutes to get to class.

Alright, go get ready so you’re not late to class.

When am I ever late?

Tony let out a laugh that could have been heard over the school bell. Jason grabbed his stuff and headed to the locker room to get ready for class.

After showering and changing into a comfortable T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, he walked to class, enjoying his granola bars. The halls were filled with students talking and screaming, and most of them walking to classes.

He noticed a banner that read, Congrats, Class of 2018! He couldn’t believe he only had one week of high school left. It seemed like yesterday it had been his first day of senior year. But between school, basketball, and applying for colleges, the year had flown by.

Jason walked in and sat down where he normally did for his first period, AP Calculus. He was one of the first students to arrive. As the minutes passed, more and more students started filing in and taking their seats. Every seat was full except for the one right next to Jason.

Ring!

After the bell rang, the door to the classroom was closed by a woman with hair white as snow. She walked to the chalkboard, a sheet of paper in hand. She put her glasses on and began writing the date on the board, her hand shaking as she wrote. When she was done, she turned around to face the class.

Good morning, the woman announced, looking like she had sucked on a lemon.

Good morning, Mrs. Haggler, the class responded unenthusiastically.

Keaton Barnhart, Mrs. Haggler called out.

At the beginning of every class, Mrs. Haggler would take attendance by going down her list of students. There was the same number of desks as students in the class, making it obvious when someone was missing. But Mrs. Haggler was old-fashioned. She was the only teacher who used a chalkboard in their school. All their homework had to be done in No. 2 pencil on looseleaf paper. Any time technology was brought up, Mrs. Haggler would always say, The world was a better place before all these gadgets and robots, which made the class laugh every time. She always wore dresses that would’ve made even Mother Teresa proud by covering everything but her ankles. Mrs. Haggler had earned the nickname Mrs. Hagg because she was disliked by most of the students.

Roll call was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Come in, Mrs. Haggler said.

The door opened, and Jason’s heart skipped a beat. It was the girl from his dream, except now she was wearing a purple top, a denim skirt, and high heels. But she still had her gorgeous green eyes and chocolate-brown hair, which was up in a ponytail.

Taylor, is there a good reason why you are tardy? Mrs. Haggler asked, her voice pure ice.

I was using the bathroom, Taylor responded.

For future reference, plan your trips to the restroom more efficiently, Mrs. Haggler said.

I’m sorry, Taylor apologized.

What’s her problem? Jason thought. Sure, Mrs. Haggler could be a real pain in the rear end, but this was unlike her, especially to Taylor Collins who was always on time and respectful in class. Taylor didn’t wait for Mrs. Haggler’s permission to take her seat next to him.

"Now that we are all present, we can begin," Mrs. Haggler said.

After finishing roll call, Mrs. Haggler continued where she left off from their last class. She liked to lecture by writing the equations on the board and speaking with her back to the students until a student had a question or she thought something was going on. The scraping of the chalk against the blackboard got old real quick, and Jason lost focus.

He chanced a glance at Taylor. She was busy looking at the board and jotting down notes. He knew she had to feel embarrassed and bored. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know quite what to do. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head. He ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook and started to write. When he was done, he tapped her on the hand. She stopped her note-taking. He offered her the note, which she took from him.

It didn’t take long for her to read what Jason had written:

I think not peeing your pants is a pretty good reason to be late- ha ha

Taylor smiled and began writing on the paper. She didn’t take long to respond. Before she handed the note back to him, she checked to make sure Mrs. Haggler wasn’t looking. When the coast was clear, she handed him the note. It read:

I know right? Lol. And that thing about planning my bathroom trips in the future. What’s up with that???

Jason took a second to think of his response. It didn’t take long to think of something clever. He wrote his note to Taylor and handed her the piece of paper. His note read:

She’s just jealous because she has to go in diapers.

A giggle escaped Taylor’s mouth, causing Mrs. Haggler to turn to see where it had come from. After failing to find the source of the noise, Mrs. Haggler continued lecturing and writing on the board. He and Taylor shared a look of relief and began laughing quietly. When both had caught their breath, Taylor began writing her response. It took her longer this time to respond. When she was finished, she handed him the note. It read:

Honestly that’s probably it! lol. I can’t wait for this class to be done. When are we going to need this stuff? I don’t think I’ll be needing it to become a nurse. Plus, she is a bad teacher. I haven’t learned a single thing from her. And she has never caught us writing notes to each other in class. And what kind of name is Haggler? I would rather die than have that as my last name lololol :)

Jason chuckled under his breath. He was in the middle of writing back to Taylor when he heard his name.

Jason, what are you doing? Mrs. Haggler asked him. Her eyes seemed like they were trying to see into his soul.

Taking notes. Is there something wrong? Jason responded, acting confused.

You were taking notes when there were none to take. I’m just curious to know what you were writing. Mrs. Haggler’s tone was more accusative than curious.

Just notes about what you have been saying, Jason said casually.

Good. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously because this final is worth a quarter of your final grade. I’m sure a studious student such as yourself wouldn’t allow yourself to become distracted. Mrs. Haggler had definitely looked at Taylor when she’d said, distracted.

You’re right, the final is really important, Jason responded. We shouldn’t waste any more time.

After being defeated, Mrs. Haggler carried on talking about integrals, limits, and other material for the final. She had to know what they were up to, but he didn’t care. For the rest of class, he and Taylor kept writing notes and jokes to each other. There was one point when he made Taylor snort, and he thought Mrs. Haggler was going to come over and bust them. But she didn’t and continued teaching the class.

Jason wasn’t completely neglecting what Mrs. Haggler was saying. He would take notes from the board while Taylor read and wrote a response to him. Writing to her kept him sane in this class. The course wasn’t hard but very monotonous as every class was the same. They would copy down what Mrs. Haggler wrote on the board and turn in their homework at the end of class. And Taylor wasn’t wrong, Mrs. Haggler wasn’t a very good teacher. Whenever students would ask her for help, she would belittle them, saying, This is an easy concept. How do you not understand it? Jason practically taught himself and Taylor.

Ring!

The bell sounded, signaling the period was over. Time had gone by in the blink of an eye. All the students began packing up their stuff in a hurry to escape the clutches of Mrs. Haggler.

For homework, do the review problems for chapters twelve, thirteen, and fourteen. We will review the answers next class, Mrs. Haggler announced to the fleeing students.

Are you kidding me? Taylor complained to him as she packed up her stuff. "She wants us to do that and study for the final?" Taylor looked utterly annoyed.

"I think by doing the problems, we are studying for the final," Jason replied.

Thank God you’re a genius, otherwise I would be screwed in this class.

I’m not a genius, Jason said defensively.

Okay, Mr. four-point-one GPA.

Jason shrugged. I’m a try-hard.

Taylor laughed. Try-hards can’t have an A in AP Calc and not pay attention in class.

They walked, talked, and laughed down the busy hallway until reaching her locker. It was decorated with glimmering streamers and loads of pictures. Some pictures featured her friends, Brittany and Megan. Brittany was thin and had soft-looking blonde hair. Whenever Jason had talked to Brittany, she had been nice but come off a little shy. Megan, on the other hand, was more outspoken and boisterous. Her flamboyant red hair was only matched by her energy. Based off of his interactions with her, she seemed always eager to do something and craved adventure.

Other pictures on Taylor’s locker included her cheerleading during sporting events, her working at a charity event, and, of course, her dog, Bean. Jason had loved Bean. She had been the coolest and sweetest dog ever.

Jason spotted pictures of him and Taylor together. One picture was after his basketball game on Senior Night, and there was another after they had ridden a roller coaster last summer. He remembered Taylor running to the bathroom to puke after they’d taken the picture. She even had a picture from back when they were little kids, no older than seven. Her parents had taken them tubing on the lake.

Got any plans for tonight? Taylor asked as she began putting her books and notebooks away.

Going to help my dad at the shop, Jason responded.

Ugh, I don’t know how you work there. You get covered in dirt and oil and stuff.

Jason worked at Phoenix Auto Shop owned by his dad, Thomas Phoenix. He had been working in the shop since he could pick up a wrench. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but listening to classic rock and getting to spend time with his dad and brother was great.

It’s not that bad, Jason responded.

All I know is, if I get a flat, I’m screwed.

If you want, I can teach you how to change a tire, Jason offered.

Really? Taylor said doubtingly.

One of the first things he had learned was how to